Masquerade
by horcrux happy
Summary: A ball? At Hogwarts? HarryGinny, please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This took a month to write, but only because I have a bad habit of procrastinating and a large load of homework every night. Kudos to my beta Paddy for coming up with plot ideas and editing this!

'_Giggling._ Who giggles at this time of day?'

Hermione's eyes flickered open. Turning over onto her side, groaning, she glared blearily at Lavender and Parvati, who just walked into the dormitory. "What is wrong with you two?"

Parvati bit her lip, still letting out a few giggles. "Haven't you seen? There's a new bulletin on the board downstairs." The pair of them burst into a fresh fit of giggles. Lavender pulled out a battered copy of Witch Weekly and the two of them pored over the magazine.

Hermione sat up in her bed, rolling her eyes. Throwing on her uniform and pulling her bushy hair into a ponytail, she walked down to the staircase, yawning.

She stopped dead in front of the bulletin board.

ATTENTION:

Due to requests by the majority of the student population, the Hogwarts Staff has come to a decision. Hogwarts will be hosting a masquerade ball on February 14th. Rules will be further discussed by Heads of House, Head Boy and Head Girl, and Prefects. Another bulletin will be posted with further information.

Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress

"What are you staring at, Hermione?" A voice called from the top of the boys' dormitory stairs. Hermione's eyes never left the board, and she pointed at the bulletin, the purple ink glowing in the light. "I never agreed to this! I was telling the professors it would be a bad idea. All the students in a small, confined area…" She trailed off, too angry to speak. Two figures bounded down the stairs and joined her on either side, still in their pajamas.

"Decision… ball… information… Prefects…" Ron half-read the bulletin, gaping at the paper. Harry just squinted at the paper, not having his glasses on quite yet. The three of them were exhausted; Hermione had dragged them to the library to research Horcruxes, for Hermione had bought several enormous books over the summer, but neither of the two boys had complained; it was with a blazing determination that they read an enormous pile of textbooks that was loaded on the table by a frazzled Hermione.

Harry was thunderstruck. "A ball?"

Hermione snapped them out of their reverie but turning quickly to face them. "I'm going to talk this over with Professor McGonagall." She said briskly, picking up her bag and books and walking towards the portrait hole. Harry and Ron watched dumbfoundedly as the Fat Lady's portrait swung after Hermione's bookbag. Ron immediately woke up when the portrait snapped shut.

"You going, mate?"

Harry gazed out the window toward the Quidditch pitch. He didn't really know if he wanted to go. The first thought to his mind: _Ask Ginny._ Another voice sounded in his head. _No, no, you can't do that! You've dated her. You have other things to do. Like the horcruxes. There's no time for a silly costume ball!_ His heart and mind were waging war on each other, so Harry did what he normally did: Speaking without thinking. _Unintelligent speech._ "Er… I don't know yet." He quickly changed the subject. "Have any ideas for Quidditch this year?" With the speed of lightning, the conversation turned to Quidditch, and as Ron began to ramble, talking with exuberant hand motions and almost knocking a small table over, Harry sighed in both relief and worry.

"Ginny! Have you seen the bulletins?" A voice said about the redheaded girl. She put her book down on her lap, looking up into a mess of blonde hair.

"Anna, your hair is suffocating me!" Leighanna lifted her head, laughing.

"There's going to be a masquerade ball on St. Valentine's Day!" Ginny looked up at Leighanna. She had been very comfortable lying down and was now rather upset that Leighanna had interrupted her. As soon as Leighanna said this, Ginny snorted.

"You're kidding me."

"No, this isn't a joke! They're really having one!" Leighanna exclaimed, moving to sit on the couch Ginny was currently occupying. "Well, do you think you're going?"

Ginny, who was in the process of sitting up, froze. The thought didn't even register. _A ball? _ At this time? When there was a war and everyone feared for their lives, for the lives of their loved ones? It never occurred to her that there would be a desperate shot at happiness; to lighten the mood of all students still at the school. The first thought to her mind was Harry. There was on one she wanted to go with but him, but there was no way he was going. She chose her words carefully. "I'm… not sure yet. Besides, we've got a few months until the ball. It's only December!" She laughed rather derisively without intending it to be so. She yawned. "Have you started that Transfiguration essay yet? I can't find the sixth consequence of becoming an unregistered Animagus. I think my textbook is missing a page or something." Ginny said, hastily changing the subject and walking over to the table where Demelza and Victoria were sitting, working on one of the three essays they were assigned. She needed time to think.


	2. Chapter 2

A large pile of bushy brown… _something_ was in front of him. It was a person. Putting his hand on the person's shoulder, she turned around. It was Hermione. She smiled at him. "Ron… I've always wanted to tell you… I—"

Ron woke with a start, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. "Wha--?" He mumbled incoherently, groaning as he sat up in bed. It was such a nice dream!

"Cheers, mate, you finally woke up!" Harry exclaimed loudly, chucking a gift at the unsuspecting ginger. "Happy Christmas!"

"Oi, presents!" Ron yelled, jumping out of bed, finally awake.

The dorm looked like a Christmas tree had exploded; there was tinsel draped sloppily along the room and ceiling, snow was falling and vanishing before it hit anything, wreaths were hung on bedposts, and mismatched ornaments were haphazardly hung everywhere.

"Hey, Harry, did Dobby do all this?" Ron questioned, unwrapping a large bag of sweets and pulling out a Chocolate Frog, catching it mid-jump and stuffing it in his mouth.

"Probably was." Harry leaned over and knicked a frog from Ron. Ron went back to busying himself with presents. Spotting a strange gift, Harry leaned over all the empty boxes and shreds of wrapping paper and pulled it out of the diminishing pile of presents. It was peculiar; the wrapping was white, except for where Harry's fingers had touched it. Furrowing his eyebrows slightly, he wiped the surface with his hand. A pattern of flittering golden snitches on a Quidditch pitch appeared briefly and then faded back to white. Curiosity taking over, he gingerly took off the wrapping and he held a small black box in his hands. Opening it, a note fell out. Harry picked it up, very curious at this point. There was quite a block of text with a small note scrawled on the top.

Harry—

This was your father's. He wanted you to have it on your 17th birthday, but I think it'd be nice to give this to you now.

Happy Christmas!

Remus

Harry stared at the letter. _His father's?_

Dear Harry,

I'm writing this just as you're in the other room, walking for the first time. I hope you appreciate the life you have, and I hope I live to see you leave Hogwarts and life out in the real world. You have my black hair, but your mother's eyes; bright green and full of life and curiosity.

I think you're going to grow up and be a handsome young man, just like I was. Maybe you'll be a Quidditch star like I was, or maybe you'll be like your mum and be the smartest wizard of your time.

This bracelet was my grandmother's, who gave it to my father, who gave it to my mother, who gave it to me and I gave it to Lily. She wanted you to have it, so I'm giving it to you so you can pass it on to whoever you fall for. Watch out for any redheads; I call it the Potter curse.

Be all that you can be, son. It'll make us proud.

James Potter

9/21/1981

Harry's eyes were watering. Blinking furiously, he stared down at the open box. Inside it was a bracelet that looked rather new, but it was probably protected by magic, and it had an expensive air around it: intricate rose gold threads twisted with other metals, each with several sparkling jewels strung on, and several pears were also attached, dangling from the actual bracelet. He snapped the box shut, looking at the letter once again.

_Potter family curse?_

Ginny shook her head. _He wouldn't want to go with me._ She continued to walk toward the common room, absentmindedly fiddling with the strap of her bag. _He's busy looking for the Horcruxes._ Ginny vaguely wondered what Horcruxes were; she had only overheard Ron, Hermione, and Harry talking about the things in hushed voices. _He's so busy, and anyway, it'd be awkward. Ever since that day by the lake… The ball will be dull._ She tried to convince herself not to go. _There's too much to worry about in the Wizarding World to worry about a ball, too much terror…_ Something nagged at her conscience though. It was brushing all other thoughts aside. _Just go._

Harry opened the doors to the entrance of the school, exhausted, with Ron and Hermione closely behind. It wouldn't have appeared strange, but they had returned during lunch with injuries and having missed several days of classes. Ron was clutching his left arm, which seemed to be bleeding rather profusely, but was tied with a piece of cloth to try and stem the flow. Hermione was limping and wincing with every step, heavily favoring her right leg, and her arm was around Ron's shoulder, leaning on him for support, and the bottom of her robe appeared to be missing a large strip of material. Harry seemed to have more injuries than he actually did; there were scars everywhere and fresh cuts over old scars. There was a large, deep gash on his forehead that narrowly missed his trademark lightning-shaped scar and dried blood was in lines down the side of his face, and the cut was still steadily oozing blood. His robes were torn in numerous places, and there was blood blossoming on his sweater. His face was set in hard determination and hiding the obvious blinding pain he must be experiencing, and his left hand was clenched in a fist, his right clutching his wand. The students saw the three of them, as the doors to the Great Hall were wide open. Of course, the rumors spread like wildfire. The three Gryffindors, swallowing their pride, just marched on back to the tower were the Fat Lady, anxiously awaiting their safe return, opened the portrait hole without expecting a password. It had happened twice already, and this time, it was no different.

As they passed the Great Hall, only one person worried about their safety and feared for their lives.

_Oh, please let them be alright._ Ginny prayed, squeezing her eyes shut. Raising a hand to her face, she was not surprised to find her face wet with tears.


	3. Chapter 3

"Harry, just go to the ball. You deserve at lead a bit of cheery fun." Hermione said, patting his arm and sitting down on the couch gingerly, still wincing a bit due to her leg and her spine. They had only returned three days previous, after strenuous but successful attempts at destroying the fifth Horcrux; Rowena Ravenclaw's bronze arrow. They had destroyed Hufflepuff's cup and Slytherin's locket earlier in the academic year.

Ron threw down his quill violently. "This is stupid! How am I ever going to get any NEWTs if I'm barely there for classes?" He shouted, fuming.

"Oh, hush, Ron, if only you concentrated harder during classes when you're actually there…" Hermione said, biting her lip as she balanced a tall stack of books and placing the teetering pile on the table.

"Easy for you to say, Hermione, you're still maintaining top grades even without attending class half the time!"

"Rubbish. I just know how to handle the workload." Hermione replied, heavily denying her genius as usual. "Harry, you really should go."

Harry sighed. It was just like Hermione to tell him he needed an outlet. It had been a common occurrence for the past month. Maybe he should go. But the Yule Ball had been such a disaster, and he still owed Parvati an apology… "Do I have to bother with a partner for this ball?"

"No. It's supposed to be a masquerade ball, so you'll just be dancing with anyone who catches your eye." She threw a glance at Ron, who had been watching her intently and at the moment of being caught, turned bright red and mumbled something about Uric the Oddball and hastily went back to his essay.

Maybe he would go. If only schoolwork and Horcruxes weren't eating his mind… Harry suddenly started coughing violently, a fit that had occurred several times already; probably a side effect from the excruciating effort of destroying the fifth Horcrux.

Hermione looked at him worriedly. "Harry, maybe you should go to the Infirmary. Madam Pompfrey will have you feeling better in no time."

He nodded in response, not able to speak. Ron and Hermione abandoned their books and each one took one of Harry's arms to hold him up. Harry solemnly made a decision. _I'll go if I'm still alive at the end of the week._

Harry weakly wobbled out of the Hospital wing. _No time…I just wasted a week of my life being violently ill!_ Madam Pompfrey had only just released him after he begged for 3 hours. Trudging up to the Gryffindor tower, it hit him; tonight was the ball. He didn't say he was going, after all: but it was a _masquerade_. For a masquerade, you needed a costume. Or at the very least a themed outfit. _Bloody hell. How an I going to do this?_ He mentally slapped himself. _You're a wizard_ Heaving a great sigh, he stopped worrying about it. _I'll worry about it after I take a nap._

It was here. February 14th. Hermione sighed. It was a ruckus. It was bound to be! So much planning with this ball; extra security measures, new rules… Every meeting ended in Hermione having a grand headache, especially after arguing with Pansy Parkinson. After Sophie Roper helped zip up the back of her dress, Hermione snapped on her mask. It was a pal, icy blue and covered with crystals in shades of blue and cerulean. She was dressed as Amphitrite, wife of Poseidon, the Greek god of the sea. Heading for the common room, she tugged on her earrings, looking for Harry and Ron.

Ron was waiting across the room. Hermione easily spotted him, as he was the tallest in the room. Most of the guys opted out of dressing in costumes, and Ron was not an exception to this, but at least he was dressed in less frilly dress robes in a shade of dark blue, which complimented his hair rather nicely. (Hermione came to the conclusion that Ginny and Mrs. Weasley must have helped pick them out.) She saw him speaking to a slightly shorter boy wearing dark green robes and a black and silver mask; Harry. Hermione walked over to them.

"Ron, where's your mask?" She asked, stopping in front of the two boys. He held it out wordlessly, and looking at her with a slightly glazed look. She fixed the dark gold mask on his face, and he laughed.

"I probably look ridiculous." Hermione didn't answer.

"Well, let's go to the Great Hall, then." Harry stated, walking away from the crowd of Gryffindors and down to the ballroom, with Ron and Hermione following.

Harry glided through the ballroom, glad that his scars, including his most obvious one, where hidden by some charm of Hermione's. He danced with several girls, barely speaking to any of them and being _Mr. Mysterious_, as Ginny would call him. His heart felt heavy. _Ginny._ She had to be here! He looked around, trying to find her trademark bright red hair, but only Ron was seen. Confused, he went back to the dance floor. A brunette tapped him on the shoulder and curtsied. She was dressed in a white cloud, it seemed; she had feathered wings attached to her back, and her mask was pure white with iridescent glitter and feathers all over.

"Dance?" She questioned. Harry nodded, wondering who she was. Her voice seemed familiar, but he had never seen her around school…

"Are you a Slytherin?" She asked bluntly, squinting at him suspiciously. He shook his head.

"No. The mask and robes are rather deceiving, though, aren't they?" He chuckled and noticed she wasn't as tense as she was earlier. The girl let out a giggle.

She began to talk about everything and anything, apparently sensing that he was not a talker. Harry let out a sigh of relief he hadn't known he'd been holding. As strange as it was, she felt right in his arms, but he didn't even know her…

An hour passed. Two hours. Harry was tired of dancing and went to grab a drink, while the mysterious brunette went to dance with others. Sitting down, he tried to figure out who she was. Couldn't be a Slytherin because she asked him if he was one rather inquisitively. Hufflepuff? No, most Hufflepuffs didn't talk as much as she did, as they were shy. That left Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Before Harry could continue pondering, the girl appeared in front of him. "One last dance before midnight?"

"Sure." He responded, smiling. His only consolation was that all charms and masks would be removed at midnight, finally revealing who the girl was.

Midnight came too soon.

_Judgment time. As soon as the twelfth stroke of midnight chimes._

Harry stepped back at the eleventh stroke.

The brown hair of the girl began to morph into a different shade, and the mask was vanishing. Harry felt his own mask fading away.

It was _Ginny_.

"Oh. Ginny, I'm really sorry…" He said, without thinking or looking at her.

"No, Harry, don't be sorry." She blushed. "It's my fault for trying to figure out who you were…" Mumbling, she rambled on.

Harry did the first thing that came to mind. He kissed her.

It wasn't just a simple kiss. Harry kissed her like he meant it, because, well, he _did_ mean it. It was a year's worth of frustration, disappointment at himself, anguish, _everything_.

He took a step back from her and smiled. The hole in his heart seemed to be slowly but surely mending itself. He found his mind straying to the black box hidden in his trunk. It seemed that he had found someone to give the bracelet to.

FIN


End file.
